"I have not said I would take him away."
She trembled so at that, that for an instant she could not speak. "Not
take him?"
"Not if you think it is best for him to stay with you."
She began to pant with fear, "You mean something by that, I know you
do I Oh, what do you mean? I cannot do him any harm!"
"Woman," said Dr. Lavendar solemnly, "can you do him any good?"
She cowered silently away from him.
"Can you teach him to tell the truth, you, who have lived a lie? Can
you make him brave, you, who could not endure? Can you make him
honorable, you, who have deceived us all? Can you make him unselfish,
you, who have thought only of self? Can you teach him purity, you,
who--"
"Stop! I cannot bear it."
"Tell me the truth: can you do him any good?"
That last solemn word fell into profound silence. There was not a
sound in the still darkness of the study; and suddenly her soul was
still, too ... the whirlwind of anger had died out; the shock of
responsibility had subsided; the hiss of those flames of shame had
ceased. She was in the centre of all the tumults, where lies the quiet
mind of God. For a long time she did not speak. Then, by and by, her
face hidden in her arms on the table, she said, in a whisper: "No."
And after the fire, the still small Voice.